Rain
by mellownonchalant
Summary: UPDATE: REVISED CH.1 POSTED Lady finds herself getting more than she's bargained for in a trip to the firearms shop with a certain cocky half demon. DantexLady


_Its been so long since any update, but school has been busy. So sorry. But…I this a newly revised 1__st__ chapter. I added more dialogue and whatnot. There is a OC but he will only appear in this one as a very minor role to get the plot going. I felt inspired so I wrote this out of the blue. Please review; I need comments and constructive criticism so that I can improve my writing._

_**Disclaimer: **__Devil May Cry series and its characters are property of CAPCOM. I am borrowing them for personal entertainment only. _

_**Rain**_

The two devil hunters were in a gun store just outside the city. Earlier that morning Dante had pestered Lady into accompanying him with picking a new gun to add to his collection of arsenal. Why he wanted a new firearm was beyond Lady. The adrenaline-junky had enough artillery to equivalent the army's! He already has Ebony and Ivory--custom-made guns of incomparable efficiency; Artemis--a laser blaster; Shotgun; and Spiral--a powerful sniper rifle.

The female demon hunter was beginning to think that Dante just wanted to monopolize what was left of her free time, which was, in the first place, very limited. Her schedule was strictly portioned into demon hunting (which took roughly 90 of the day), eating, and then resting. So unfortunately, she had little time for anything else. But it was a hopeless cause to reject Dante's offer. Threats were definitely out of the question. Even if she implanted a bullet to his head (her special way of saying "not interested"), she saw no point in declining his request, knowing that he would've literally dragged her with him in the end. As if the jerk "_needed_" her advice. He's a goddamn firearms expert. He wasn't known as the best demon hunter in the business for nothing.

So here they were, perusing the aisles. The shop's interior was dark and shabby; the grungy linoleum floor littered with dust and grime and the ceiling sparsely lined with tarnished, fluorescent bulbs. The ventilation was poorly maintained, too, making it warm and muggy inside. Posters lined the walls, advertising the newest products and the air smelled of cigar and gunpowder. Only few windows allowed light inside the shop. While the hunters remained ignorant of the weather, the clouds grew heavier by the hour, sparks of lightning brightening the sky.

Dante was currently looking at some ammo, so Lady decided to move ahead to the firearm maintenance section. Those acquainted with the raven-haired hunter knew how much of an obsessive and thorough nutcase she was when it came to gun maintenance. Unlike _some_ lazy ass she knew. Lady was proud to say that she dedicated a 3 hour cleaning regiment every day--doing a cursory check-up, then brushing, wiping, and lubing what was left of any firing residue. Rule number one in hunting, a demon hunter must keep the armory in top condition if quality service is desired during missions.

While she was here, why not put some good use to it and get the supplies she had been itching to buy all week? Shelves were stacked with a wide variety of cotton cloth wipes, brushes, solvents, lubes, bore guides, graphite rods, and other gun cleaning materials. Nice. It seems like the storekeeper's been busy with restocking the inventory.

Lady quickly flicked her eyes over the items and grabbed a couple of graphite rods and a high-grade copper solvent. That was 30 bucks down the drain. Oh well. She's running low on supplies, anyway.

Fanning herself with her right hand, she proceeded to find the cashier's station to pay for the items. This part of the store was much hotter than the rest. Quickening her stride to get to the colder side of the building, she passed by a small window between two shelves. The glass was filthy but enough to see what was beyond its grimy confines. Lady stopped in her tracks and peered out the window. She noticed that it was getting darker as clouds coalesced into a big ball of gray waves. The city looked like it was being swallowed by the cloud's darkness. Soon enough, it started to pour. Hard.

She didn't know if she wanted to thank the heavens for cooling off the summer heat or to curse it instead, since it was an inconvenience to be delayed by some pesky weather anomaly. People had things to do, demons to kill (for her anyway). But, alas, the weather answers to no master.

Strangely, as Lady observed the storm raging outside, one thing came to mind.

He reminded her of a summer storm. Dante was the thunder, the rain, and the wind. From the moment the silver-haired warrior came into her life, nothing remained a balanced equation. Well, her life was never a balanced equation in the first place, but when Dante came along, it just got a whole lot crazier. She longed for a forecast, a foreshadowing, but surprisingly, she liked the surprises he blew her way. But she would rather bite her tongue before she admitted that. He managed to breathe spontaneity in her life. She taught him the value of family; he taught her to care again. She made him stronger; and him, her. He was a restorative element as much as a destructive one. He was a paradox.

"Hey, what do you think of this one?" a familiar, deep voice pierced her thoughts.

"What? Yeah. Yeah, its good enough," Lady gathered her wits just in time to reply without looking like a complete bumbling idiot. Good save.

What had she been doing all this time? She was so distracted that she hadn't even noticed his presence? If a demon stumbled upon her then, it would've inflicted some nasty injury on her. She let her guard down. It was unacceptable for a hunter.

"So, you agree that I look hot with it?"

"Who wouldn't?"

Wait.

Shit. Did she just say what she thought she did?

The half-demon set the gun down on the shelf, and turned to her. His eyes dancing with mirth as he leaned closer.

"I knew you'd come over to my side, babe," he winked and placed a hand on her shoulder. Disgruntled by the contact, Lady wrenched herself away from Dante's grasp.

"Don't flatter yourself," she retorted as coldly as possible, regaining her composure after relocating a foot away from him.

Dante smirked. He always enjoyed seeing her squirm. It's a rare sight to have a flustered Lady. It was priceless.

"Hate to break it to you, babe, but you just did, and don't deny it either," the blue-eyed man claimed, putting an emphasis on "did."

"Shut up!" she shouted, her face pink. It was a default retort every time Dante said something undeniably embarrassing about her. But what sucked most about this one was because it was true. She hated to admit it but Dante was right.

Lady was beginning to regret coming with him. One slip of the tongue and she would never hear the end of it. Dante would never live it down. The cocky bastard relished any attention from the opposite sex, especially when the attention came from Lady. He felt like he won the lottery, and she wanted to punch him for it.

Lady, feeling her face getting hot, quickly turned her back to him, hoping to hide her discomfort. By now, punching him where it _hurt_ the most was becoming a more and more inviting idea. That would wipe off his cocky smirk.

"It's okay, Lady. It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Dante coolly fired back, a teasing grin still on his lips. He passed Lady as he made his way to the cashier and she gave him the coldest glare she could muster.

Someone's being very touchy today. Damn, what could've gotten her panties in a bunch? He turned back to the forgotten gun, spun it around his finger, and studied it.

One thing came to mind. The thin, S&W 9mm pistol reminded him of his disgruntled female companion. Tiny, yet stable; never meant to be underestimated. And it has a mean packing force to boot. Very much like her.

Sneaking a glance at Lady, Dante noticed the look of frustration on her face. And was there confusion, too? A mad Lady was hot. Before she decides to make you a target practice, that is. But that didn't stop Dante from checking her out, anyway. The miniskirt was hiking up and showed more skin than usual. Being a testosterone-imbued male, he couldn't help but notice how good she looked in the very short apparel. And how much better she would be without it. Alright, freeze. Back off. That train of thought will earn him a front row seat to Kalina Ann's firing radius. As of now, he wasn't in the mood for becoming a pin cushion.

"Hey, Lady. You coming?" he asked. No answer. The cold shoulder, huh?

"What? Can't take a joke? Oh, c'mon, babe, loosen up a bit," the silver-haired man cooed in appeasement.

"I said shut up, you demon gigolo!" she yelled. Seeing that shouting wasn't enough to release her frustration, she fiercely threw the rods and solvent at him.

Dante avoided the projectiles deftly and caught them with a style.

"Woah! Demon gigolo? What the hell does that mean?" the silver-haired hunter bristled at the taunt.

"Don't talk to me," Lady enunciated carefully.

Okay, maybe he has been around the block (once or twice in full circle) but does she really have to put it that _nicely_? And the way she stared him down--he could swear that the flesh was going to melt off his face. Damn woman. There must have been a memo he missed saying: "_CAUTION: May possibly bite your head off._" Females and their PMS. What's PMS, anyway? Pissy Mood Syndrome? He really did have bad luck with women.

Lady rushed out of the store, leaving a puzzled Dante behind.

"Wait! Hey, Lady, hold on a minute!" He wanted to follow her, but first he didn't want to be arrested for shoplifting. So he gave up the chase and went toward the pay booth.

Witnessing the little love quarrel in the store, the cashier raised his brow in amusement. "Kids these days," he chuckled. Finally, there was something interesting around here. It's been bleak for months.

The leather clad man placed the items on the counter.

"Will that be all, sir?" the man asked.

"Yeah. And don't call me 'sir,'" his voice tinged in slight annoyance. Does he look old? He's still 19, damnit, he's young! It has to be his silver hair.

"I saw that little spat with your girlfriend earlier."

"She's not my girlfriend," he muttered.

"Whatever you say, kid. But word of advice? Just apologize."

Wrong move. No one tells him what to do. He has the 'don't-hurt-the-humans' rule, but he's beginning to consider revoking that. And it might just start with this guy.

"What makes you say that?" the hunter growled. He was going to tell him to mind his own business, but curiosity got the better of him.

"Because of that look in your eyes," the strange cashier offered simply. Now he has a 'look'?

"Whatever, buddy," Dante said with finality. A tone expressing that the discussion was over.

After paying and bagging the purchases, he sprinted out the door.

There was no Lady in sight. Well, she didn't wait for him. Where could she be by now? It was getting dark. The weather wasn't helping matters, either. As swift as the wind, the silver-haired hunter chased after his companion in the rain.


End file.
